When Helga Met Salazar
by Izzyaro
Summary: For Helga, everything is over. She has been revealed as a witch, tried, and found guilty. Like all her kind she is to be burned alive. Everyone knows that that's how it goes. At least, it is until a passing stranger decides to change the rules. For Helga, nothing will ever be the same.


**When Helga Met Salazar**

 **Izzyaro**

 **I know some people have been waiting for this for quite a long time, so I really hope you enjoy it.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and am not affiliated with Bloomsbury or Scholastic Inc.**

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Helga ran.

The icy wind tore at her exposed face and hands, and easily cut through her thin shawl. Branches caught at her clothes as she stumbled through the forest, her already slow progress hindered by the rapidly fading light. Her lungs burned, and blood thundered in her ears, but she kept running. Helga could hear shouts behind her, and smell the smoke of torches, but when she tried to change direction her foot caught in a tangled tree root, and she hit the ground with a startled cry.

"Over there!"

Helga choked back a sob and forced herself to her feet. Maybe there was no chance of escape, but she would not be caught lying helpless on the ground. Her head throbbed and she had to lean against the nearest tree to stay upright, but she turned to face her pursuers.

The torches were coming closer now, the shadowy figures moving with more assurance. They knew she couldn't evade them. She never could. Helga knew, even as she sucked in desperate gulps of air, that every able-bodied man in the village was searching for her. All of those people just to catch a simple healer.

Helga honestly didn't know whether to laugh or cry. All the power she had she had only ever used to help people. The very same people who were closing in on her now. She stared down at her dirt-smudged hands and her torn clothes, and could only shake her head. Who could ever fear her?

"Stay back. Careful now."

Edred. He had broken his arm last autumn. If not for her he would never have hunted again.

"There are too many of us. She won't try anything."

Matthew the Miller. She had delivered all four of his children. Her vision blurred, and her hands curled into fists. What did they think she could do?

Potentially, she could do a great deal. There was a reason people like her were feared. Helga had only ever used her power to heal, but destruction could only be easier. She of all people knew how vulnerable the human body was. Her skin seemed to burn, and Helga looked down to see her hands glowing, not with their normal gold, but with a deep, burnt orange blaze. Her heart pounded in her chest, and when Helga closed her eyes she could feel her power singing in her very blood. Her exhaustion seemed to fall away as exultation tore through her. With this power she could fight back. She could make them pay for what they had done.

But she couldn't kill them all. She was too weak and they were too many, and once they caught her thing would go more badly than before, and Helga had never, ever wanted to use her power like that. In all the time she had had it, she had never once used it to cause harm; indeed, the knowledge that its use was her choice, and hers alone, was the only thing that kept her from fearing it. These people might judge her for what she was, but Helga had long ago chosen who she would be.

And she was no killer.

The angry orange light faded. The wind danced across her skin. Helga looked up to find herself surrounded. Farming tools and a few crude weapons were levelled at her, and their owners' eyes were wide with fear. The torches cast long dancing shadows across the clearing. Helga took a deep breath and straightened. She ignored the sudden murmurs and tension, and instead spoke as calmly as she could.

"I will go with you."

There was a pause, then one of the men lowered his spear and took a step forward. "Come over here then, lass."

It was Edward, who Helga had once counted a friend. From the subdued, almost pained look in his eyes he had felt the same way. Helga took another deep breath, then held her head up and crossed to his side. There were mutters when Edward gently took her arm, but he silenced the voices with a look.

"Have you ever known her to break her word?"

There were some scowls, but Helga was relieved to see many of the men putting up their weapons somewhat sheepishly.

"Never told us she was a witch though, did she?"

"I wonder why?" Edward snapped. "Though maybe we should have worked it out when she kept saving our lives, including yours, Bran."

Dislocated hip, Helga recalled. He was lucky to still be walking. Bran's expression darkened at the reminder, but he said nothing. Edward sighed and looked down at Helga. "I am sorry."

Helga managed a small smile. "I knew the risks." She wasn't stupid, but she also wasn't capable of just standing by. She had done some good in her life, and even now she couldn't bring herself to regret it.

Only one thing remained.

"Will you look for him?"

Edward's warm brown eyes met hers, the first time anyone had dared to in days. "I will, and I will do everything I can to keep him from harm. You have my word."

Helga let out a breath as tension drained from her body. "Thank you." She took a moment to steady herself. He would be as safe as he could be, despite her mistakes. Helga took a moment to steady herself and looked back up at Edward. "I am ready."

Edward's jaw clenched, but he nodded. He slipped his arm through hers and the group started to make their way back to the village.

Helga found her terror settling somewhat as they drew closer. Maybe it was because Edward steady presence didn't falter and he continued to treat her as he always had, but maybe it was simply because there was nothing else she could do. She had hidden, argued and run, and in the end it had all come to nothing. Those she loved most had turned against her, and her fate was decided. There was nothing more she could do.

She was going to die.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't right, or just, or honourable, but it was the way the world worked. She had lived her life in accordance with her beliefs, despite full knowledge of the consequences, and she would hold her head high. She might die today, but many of her friends lived full, happy lives because of her, and that was a legacy she could accept.

Her only regret was not seeing him grow up, but at least this way he would be able to do so.

Helga took a deep breath as the first houses came into sight. She would not let them see fear. They didn't deserve that. She straightened up as best she could, and felt Edward squeeze her hand.

"Stand tall," he whispered. "Do not give them the satisfaction."

Helga glanced at him. Edward's eyes were very bright, and his face paler than Helga had ever seen it, but he met her gaze without flinching. Despite her weariness and pain she managed a small smile. "I will."

That resolution was tested, however, when she saw just who was waiting for her.

Despite herself, Helga's steps faltered as she met the cold blue eyes of Brother Livius. Those eyes had stared into her soul while his men dragged her away from Wilburg's body, while he read the accusations for the court, while he took the most precious thing in the world from her and sent her to die. She would never stop seeing them.

But all of Livius' contempt was nothing next to the burning hatred in Cerdic's face.

Helga found it impossible to breathe. How could the man who used to look at her with such love now despise her so utterly? How could husband's face, so gentle, so carefree, now be distorted into something she barely recognised? How could the knowledge of what she was change him so completely?

Looking at him was tearing her heart in two, but Helga couldn't help it. She barely noticed when Edward stepped aside to let two of Livius' men take his place, and she heard none of Livius' vitriol. Even when they began to force her away Helga kept her eyes on her husband. She couldn't help it. She had given him everything.

Then she was standing before the stake, with its pile of timber, and the crowds were gathered, and torches blazed and the night rang with jeers and taunts. Hostility and hatred crashed over her like a wave and Helga's knees buckled under the pressure. Cerdic's face, flushed with loathing, stood out like a burning brand and Helga couldn't hold back a sob.

It was over. She had given them everything, but this was the end.

There was no point in resisting as they dragged her to the post and bound her arms behind her back. They were too many, and she was too weak and there was no point. Everyone she knew feared her at best, and outright despised her at worst. Everything and everyone she touched would be cursed by association as long as she lived, and she couldn't force her loved ones to endure that.

Helga closed her eyes and tilted her head up to the sky. She blocked out her neighbours' scorn, and the pain from her wrists, and just let herself breathe in the cool night air. At least her family, her parents and brothers, hadn't come to watch. They had argued for her at the mockery of a trial, and she loved them more than she could say, and she had never wanted them here. It would be harder with them here. It was hard enough with Cerdic...

Pain lanced through her at the very thought of her husband, and Helga wrenched her mind away. He would not be the last thing she thought about. She heard Livius' piercing voice carry over the babble and braced herself. It would not be long now.

Helga wanted to pray for it to be quick, but she knew better. She had treated burn injuries before. The unnatural calm she had been experiencing fell away and terror crashed over her. Her eyes flew open and she searched the crowd, desperate to see a sympathetic face, but anyone not openly gleeful had turned away. Even Edward was staring at the ground, shame and horror emanating from him, but he didn't move. No one did. No one but the guard who began to advance towards her, blazing torch in hand.

Helga cried out. She couldn't help it. There were no words; she was about to be burned alive and there were no words for that, but all her fear and anger and betrayal tore from her throat tore from her throat and silence fell.

Smiles faded. The jeers ceased. Cerdic's face flushed purple, but he made no sound. Good. No one should be celebrating this.

Then Livius drew himself up and nodded to his guard, and Helga knew it was over. She tried to breathe calmly, but terror still clawed at her throat and it was impossible to get a full breath. She was going to die. She was going to be burned alive. A drop of rain landed on her cheek, but the guard was setting the torch at the base of the pile and all Helga could do was pray.

The spots of rain became a light shower, but the fire was catching. Livius' eyes lit with a horrible glee. Cerdic was bathed in orange light, his mouth twisting into a fierce, wolf-like grin. Helga breathed in smoke and found herself coughing, heat beginning to cut through her thin dress. She wouldn't cry out. She wouldn't beg. She wouldn't. Her coughs grew more harsh, and her vision started to blur as her lungs burned. This was it.

The heavens opened.

Helga gasped. She couldn't help it. The shock of the downpour drove what little breath she had from her body, but it also effectively doused the growing flames. Startled shouts came from the crowd, and Helga noted with some satisfaction that their torches had gone out too. She found herself blinking in the darkness; there was a full moon, and her eyes would soon adjust, but for the moment chaos reigned. Helga heard Livius shouting for fresh torches, but the downpour showed no sign of abating, and she let herself breathe. It would only be a brief respite at best, but it was nice to see that they weren't having everything their way.

Helga watched the confusion for only a few seconds though before she felt something change. It was nothing she could put her finger on. Nothing seemed to have happened; Livius was still shouting and people were still running every which way, some to get fresh torches and some to get out of the rain. Everything was as before. Everything, except the way her skin was tingling, and that strange sense of something...

Then there was another voice. This one though came from behind her, and was so soft that Helga had to strain to hear it.

"Do you want to live?"

Helga drew in a sharp breath. She nearly turned around, but even in the darkness and pouring rain that might attract attention so she forced herself to keep looking forward. "Who are you?"

"Someone who can get you out," came the reply. "It might be better to save the proper introductions for later."

Quiet as the voice was, Helga could hear the strain in it. A hundred thoughts crossed her mind, but in the end there was really only one choice. "Help me," she whispered. "Please."

There was no reply, but Helga suddenly felt someone take her hands and begin to work at the ropes binding her wrists. She held her breath, it would be difficult for anyone to see them, but this was no time to take chances. Thankfully it was only a matter of seconds before the ropes fell away. Helga stumbled as the support faded, exhaustion suddenly overwhelming her, but a strong hand caught her arm and held her upright.

"I am very sorry about this."

Helga frowned, but then the world wrenched sideways and Helga decided she was going to die. She was crushed and twisted and pulled in every direction until she was almost convinced burning alive was a better way to go, but the the pressure vanished and she felt cool air on her face. Then she fell forward onto dry grass and promptly threw up.

It was some time before Helga stopped retching. If that was magic then she never wanted it ever again. She eventually recovered herself enough to realise someone was kneeling next to her, and managed to look up into her rescuer's face.

Helga stared. She couldn't help it. Whatever she had been expecting it wasn't a young man no older than herself. His face was thin and angular, with olive skin and black hair that was currently plastered flat against his head, but most striking were his eyes. They were a clear, bright grey, and so piercing that Helga thought they could see right into her soul. They also seemed to glow with barely suppressed fury, but although Helga could sense his power she felt no urge to move. Before she could work out why though the man blinked and his whole face seemed to soften.

"Are you all right?"

His voice was light and clear. Helga took a deep breath and managed to nod, but she couldn't bring herself to speak. The man frowned, then reached into a pocket. "I apologise for the violence of the trip," he said. "It was the only way to get you away before they saw us." He handed her vial filled with a blue liquid. "This will help with the nausea."

Helga had never drunk anything blue before, but as she still didn't feel afraid of him. Somehow she didn't think he would ever hurt her. She downed the drink and gasped as all traces of nausea and pain vanished. "That...that is incredible." She stared at him. "What is it?"

The man blinked, then gave a slight smile. "It's just a Pain-Relieving Potion. May I ask your name?"

Helga felt herself blush. "Oh, I do apologise. My name is Helga." She was about to ask his when she happened to glance around. "Wait a moment. Is that Londinium?"

The man looked slightly sheepish. "I may have gone a little further than necessary."

Helga could only stare. This man hadn't just saved her from the fire, he had taken her halfway across the country to keep her safe. The thought was dizzying. "Thank you," she said quietly. "You saved my life."

The man smiled, and it was remarkable how much the expression softened his rather severe features. "You are very welcome." The smile faded slightly. "Forgive me for asking, but do you have anywhere to stay?"

Helga looked away. She knew that her family loved her, but Livius would be watching them, and there was Cerdic... She couldn't go there. She couldn't put any of her friends in danger.

She was alone.

"Helga."

Helga glanced up in time to see the man watching her with undisguised compassion. He seemed to hesitate for a minute then straightened a little. "I know some others with magic. You would be more than welcome to stay with us as long as you wish."

To her dismay Helga found tears filling her eyes. She couldn't help it. After all the trials of the last few days, the betrayals, the fear, such kindness from a complete stranger was more than she could bear. It was all she could do to nod. The man tilted his head to one side, then very hesitantly shuffled round to put an arm around her shoulders while she wept. He didn't say anything, just sat with her until the tears were exhausted.

"It will get better," he said quietly. "I'm not saying it will be easy, but it will get better."

Helga took a deep breath. She had lost everything. She could never go home. She knew no one.

It could only get better.

Helga wiped the tears from her eyes and sat up. She could do this. She would survive. More than that, she would live.

But first...

"What is your name?"

The man gave her only a small smile, but his grey eyes sparkled. "My name is Salazar. It is a pleasure to meet you, Helga."

Helga managed to smile back. "It is very nice to meet you too, Salazar."

Things would get better.

They had to.

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 **Thank you for reading. I hope you all have a wonderful New Year.**


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